


Take Care of Those You Call Your Own

by brianmay_be



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Polyamory, Sickfic, also, also blanket forts, also roger wear glasses and he's Soft, and cuddle them so much, and decorating the flat for christmas, and john and roger are sick, and their boyfriends take such good care of them, basically it's just v soft christmassy poly!queen, brian is a uni student fried from finals, but taking care of their boyfriends matters more, freddie is tired from working a lot, it's christmastime, john is a cuddly babey, just a smidge, poly!Queen, roger is kinda bitchy when he's sick but it's cute, they're pressed for time finishing the album
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 05:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brianmay_be/pseuds/brianmay_be
Summary: When Freddie got to the doorway, he saw there wasn’t room for him on his bed. Not that there was ever a great amount of room; even on a king-sized bed, four people was a lot for one mattress. He found he wasn’t at all put out, though, as the tenderness of the scene before him more than made up for its inconvenience.Roger and John were both asleep, John sprawled on his stomach and Roger on his side with his leg over Brian’s, who was sat up in the middle between the two sleeping beauties. He was in his pajamas, reading over a large bundle of papers with the corners dog-eared and margins marked, muttering softly to himself as he read.ORIt’s nearing the holidays, and the boys are trying to finish up their first album and navigate what it means to be in a relationship with four people. When Roger and John catch cold in the snowy weather, their boyfriends show them how much they love taking care of those they call their own, and how much more Queen means as a band when they’re in love.





	1. Chapter 1

Freddie felt himself breathe easily for the first time all day as he stepped through the door of the flat, the tension in his shoulders easing with a heavy sigh. He laid his bag haphazardly on the kitchen table and kicked off his shoes, taking a moment to enjoy being home.

Work had been a nightmare, what with the schools let out for winter break and all the uni students back home for the holidays. It was the coeds in particular that seemed to flock to the clothing stalls, desperate to see any new trinkets or fashions Kensington’s salesmen had drummed up in the past few months. One one hand, Freddie was glad the stall was getting so much business; they could use it with rent coming up and Christmas just around the corner. On the other, it made for very long days, and as soon as he was home all he wanted to do was sleep. 

He made his way to the bedroom, fully intending to crash and sleep until he woke up naturally, work and school and alarms be damned. They had a gig tomorrow and he would probably need to go in to work for a bit before sound check, but he couldn’t bear to think about that now. He just wanted his bed.

When he got to the doorway, though, he saw there wasn’t room for him on his bed. Not that there was ever a great amount of room; even on a king-sized bed, four people was a lot for one mattress. He found he wasn’t at all put out, though, as the tenderness of the scene before him more than made up for its inconvenience.

Roger and John were both asleep, John sprawled on his stomach and Roger on his side with his leg over Brian’s, who was sat up in the middle between the two sleeping beauties. He was in his pajamas, reading over a large bundle of papers with the corners dog-eared and margins marked, muttering softly to himself as he read.

“Burning the candle at both ends, I see,” Freddie said softly, leaning against the doorframe.

Brian looked up from his papers, a sweet smile lighting his face as he saw Freddie. “You’re home,” he said happily, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the younger men. Freddie felt the aggravations of his day fade in the warm glow of Brian’s sincere happiness at seeing him.

“I’m home,” he agreed with a smile.

Brian’s expression took on a shade of worry. “You look tired, love,” he said. “How was work?”

Freddie sighed. “Murder,” he admitted. “But that’s no fun to talk about. What are you reading?”

Brian chuckled. “I’m not sure it’ll be any more entertaining for you.”

“But it will be for you,” Freddie said gently. He pushed off the doorframe. “Come on, I’ll make some tea and you can tell me all about it.”

Brian carefully disentangled himself from the John and Roger, taking care not to wake them, and followed Freddie out to the kitchen. Spurred by a sudden need to comfort Freddie, to let him know how much he appreciated Freddie working late into the night for their family, Brian took Freddie’s hand and turned him back to face him, kissing him deeply. Freddie sighed and leaned closer to Brian, feeling utterly at home against the younger man’s body.

“Mmh, what was that for?” Freddie asked, his voice hushed with tiredness and the daze of being so headily kissed.

Brian smiled. “I have to have a reason for kissing you?”

Freddie’s smile was warm and endearingly shy as he traced his fingers over Brian’s jaw. “I love you.”

Brian stole another quick kiss. “I love you too. I can make tea, if you want. You’ve had a long day.”

“Nonsense,” Freddie said, waving Brian over to the island. “You sit and tell me about your paper.”

Brian gave a soft laugh and did as Freddie said, sitting on one of the bar stools at the counter. He knew better than anybody that Freddie liked to keep busy; he felt nervous and jittery without something to do with his hands, even if he was tired. Many times had that manifested in Freddie playing with his boyfriends’ hair, just to give him something to do that soothed both Freddie and whoever was getting their hair braided.

“It’s on zodiacal light,” Brian said, shuffling through his papers. He noticed a bit of handwriting that wasn’t his own at the top corner of one of the pages; looking closer, he saw it read _love you brimi!_ in John’s distinctively neat lettering. He smiled and gently ran his fingers over the words.

“You’ve got me hanging in suspense, my love,” Freddie said with an amused smile. “What’s got your attention?”

Brian shook his head. “Just a note from John.”

“Darling thing,” Freddie said. “What’s it say?”

Brian smiled. “Just, ‘love you, brimi’.”

Freddie put a hand over his heart. “Oh, bless him.” He filled the kettle at the sink. “I was surprised to see the both of them already in bed.”

“John wasn’t feeling well,” Brian said. “I suspect Roger wasn’t in top form either, but you know him.”

Freddie chuckled. “Stubborn as a mule, yes. I know that all too well.”

“Who’s stubborn?”

Both Freddie and Brian looked over to the bedroom door, smiling when they saw John padding out in wool socks and Brian’s favorite jumper.

“Roger, darling,” Freddie said. “Roger’s the stubborn one.”

John gave a short laugh. “Yeah.” He made his way over to Freddie, putting his arms around the older man’s torso and burying his face in Freddie’s shirt.

“Well, hello, flower,” Freddie said gently, putting his arms around John. He could feel the warmth of the younger man’s fever. “Lovely to see you too.”

“I’m glad you’re home,” John said, pressing a kiss to Freddie’s collarbone.

Freddie gave a contented sigh. “Oh, me too, lovely.” He studied John’s face. “Bri said you weren’t feeling well.”

John’s face flushed with more than fever. “I think I caught a cold going out without my jumper the other day.”

Freddie tsked and brushed John’s soft curls back from his face. “Naughty thing,” he said, though it was teasing and affectionate. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, my sweet. Have you taken some medicine?”

“Yes,” John said with a smile. “Bri made sure I had some before I went to sleep.”

Freddie hummed in agreement. “He is studying to be a doctor, after all.”

Brian smiled. “Not that kind of doctor, and you know it.”

“Ah, of course, I forgot,” Freddie said. “You’re going to doctor sick stars, not sick people.”

Brian couldn’t help a chuckle. “Right.” He looked John over with a mix of tenderness and worry. “Are you feeling alright, love? Did we wake you?”

John shook his head. “I mean, well, yes, but I don’t mind. I wanted to see what you two were getting up to.”

Freddie kissed John’s forehead before releasing him to tend to the kettle that had started whistling on the stove. “Brian was telling me about his zodiacal light.”

“Ooh, do tell us, Brimi,” John said sweetly, going around the counter to sit next to Brian. He tucked himself close to the curly-haired astrophysicist, leaning his head on Brian’s shoulder.

“Well, something I’ve found particularly interesting is how it’s constantly being replenished,” Brian said, making a note of something between paragraphs in his favorite blue pen he used for all his edits. “It’s not at all the same dust night after night creating the same light - well, forgive me, it’s not _creating_ light at all - ”

“It’s reflecting, right?” John asked.

Brian gave him a warm smile. “Well done, my love,” he praised, drawing an adorable blush to John’s cheeks that Freddie couldn’t help but smile at. 

“Yes, you’re absolutely right,” Brian said. “It’s reflecting the light from the sun, so the spectrum is the same as the solar spectrum. Which is actually rather - oh, but now I’ve got off track a bit.”

“Oh, sorry,” John said quickly.

Brian chuckled. “That’s quite alright, love. Not your fault at all.”

“So, what were you going to tell us?” John asked.

Brian tapped his pen against the paper. “I was saying how the zodiacal dust is replaced almost constantly. The Poynting–Robertson effect forces - ” He seemed to realize that his boyfriends might not know what on earth the Poynting–Robertson effect was, and gestured with his hands like he did when he was passionate about what he was talking about. “You know, how solar radiation forces dust particles to lose momentum?”

Freddie and John shared a knowing and affectionate look, gentle smiles lighting their faces.

“Not really, darling,” Freddie said. “But if you want to tell us, we’d love to hear it.”

“Oh, dear, I wouldn’t dream of boring you more than I already have,” Brian said with a chuckle. “Just - well, that’ll suffice for an explanation for our purposes.”

“You’re not boring us, Bri,” John said, sounding a little distressed that Brian thought so. “Go on, tell us.”

Brian gave John a chaste kiss. “You’re very sweet, dearest,” he said. “But that really will be enough for you to understand what I’m saying.”

“Okay,” John agreed, giving Brian a smile. “So, solar radiation makes dust lose momentum.”

“Exactly,” Brian said. “And when that happens, the dust slows down, and it’s forced into a spiral towards the sun, basically.” His slender fingers depicted a picture of what he said, twirling and dancing in the soft light from the living room spilling into the kitchen. “There’s always new dust coming in to replace it, from smashed comets and odd bits like that, but it’s a constant cycle of replacing old dust. Which means no two instances of zodiacal light are ever the same.”

“Ooh, I like a bit of unpredictability,” Freddie said. He handed John and Brian their mugs of tea, cradling his own in both hands. “Very sexy.”

Brian and John laughed.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard zodiacal light described as sexy,” Brian said.

Freddie smiled. “Yes, well, when you’ve got a very sexy astronomer boyfriend, it tends to spice it up a bit.”

Brian was going to tease Freddie with some joke about how they could create their own Mercury-May effect when a noise came from the bedroom, rather like a shout, that made all three of them jump.

“Rog?” Freddie ventured when it was suddenly quiet again.

The blonde in question came stumbling out of the bedroom, looking rather disheveled and done in. His boyfriends were about to each ask him what on earth that noise had been when he raised a hand, a look of mild panic crossing his face; he bent at the waist with a loud sneeze, revealing what the earlier noise has been.

“Goodness,” Freddie said when Roger had recovered. “Gesundheit. You alright, darling?”

Roger groaned and scrubbed his face, knocking his glasses askew. “If I could stop bloody sneezing like that, I’d be top notch.”

John giggled. “You’ll wake the neighbors, Roggie.”

Roger gave a tired laugh and straightened his tortoiseshell frames, snuggling further into his hoodie as he padded over to Freddie and let himself be held.

“Oh, you poor love,” Freddie cooed, running a soothing hand up and down Roger’s back. “To hell with the neighbors.”

“Can I have more medicine, Bri?” Roger asked, his voice muffled against Freddie’s shirt.

“Not yet, I’m afraid,” Brian said with a sympathetic smile. “You’ve got another two hours or so before it’s safe for you next dose. What hurts?”

“Everything.”

Brian gave a soft laugh. “Oh, love. I’m sorry. Maybe a cup of tea would help?”

Roger nodded and Freddie gave him a chaste kiss as he pulled away to fix his younger boyfriend some tea. 

“Fred,” Roger said petulantly as he was released.

Freddie chuckled. “Let me make your tea, darling, and then I’ll hold you all you want.”

Roger agreed to this with the provision that he kept a light grip on the hem of Freddie’s favorite sweater, a soft old thing that had already been well-worn when he found it at another second-hand stall at Kensington Market. The color had caught his eye, a greenish blue in a sea of drab tans and greys, and Freddie had insisted on getting it, saying it would bring out his eyes. Roger didn’t know about that - he was captivated by Freddie’s lovely brown eyes and the kindness he saw there no matter what the older man wore - but the sweater made Freddie happy, and Roger couldn’t help but smile every time he wore it.

“Bri was telling us about his zodiacal light,” John said, his voice cheerful even as hoarse as it was. He hid a yawn behind his hand, leaning his head on Brian’s shoulder.

“I heard,” Roger said with a smile. “Poynting–Robinson effect, right?”

“Robertson,” Brian corrected gently, a soft smile playing on his features. “But yes, that’s what we were talking about.”

Freddie handed Roger his mug of tea, his hands going to tenderly comb through Roger’s curls. Roger gave a soft sigh of contentment as he settled into Freddie’s touch and sipped at his tea to soothe his sore throat.

“Maybe we should stay in from the studio tomorrow,” Brian said, his voice softened to match the quiet of the kitchen.

Roger whipped his head up. “No way!” he protested, ignoring Freddie’s huff.

“Don’t get so excited, darling,” Fredie chided. “You’ve gone and made me muss your braid. Hold still.”

Roger bit his lip as he let Freddie resume his gentle braiding. “We’ve got so much to get done, Bri,” Roger said. “We’ve got to go.”

“Not if you and John aren’t feeling well,” Brian said. “It can wait.”

They all knew they were pressed for time in finishing the album; they all wanted it to be perfect, but they’d come to see that perfectionism wasn’t exactly something an inexperienced band working on their very first album could afford. They didn’t have any leverage to ask for more time, and the deadline was drawing closer; they really needed all the studio time they could get.

“We’ll be fine,” Roger said. He was fine speaking for himself, since even though he knew he wouldn’t feel any better tomorrow, he could still muscle through it; he felt a little guilty speaking for John, though, and looked over at their youngest boyfriend.

Before John could answer he leaned away from Brian and caught a few coughs in his sleeve, each breath crackling in his chest. When he recovered he met Roger’s eyes with a bit of a blush, embarrassed he hadn’t been able to put up as strong a front as he guessed Roger was hoping for.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Brian said, rubbing John’s back soothingly.

“I’m fine,” John insisted. “I’ll be fine to go tomorrow. We can’t lose another day.”

Brian looked to Freddie for support, the two of them weighing what was best for their boyfriends against what was best for the band.

“How about this,” Freddie said, his voice calm and reasonable. “You two get a good night’s sleep, and stay in while I go to work and Brian goes to school, and we’ll see how you’re feeling then. Alright?”

John and Roger looked to each other. That was as good an option as any, and it would give them some more time to rest up and hopefully not feel as miserable when they went into the studio.

“Okay,” Roger agreed.

“What about you, Deaky?” Brian asked. “Feel alright about that?”

John hummed in agreement and buried his face against Brian’s shoulder.

Brian chuckled. “Very convincing, sweetheart.”

John just gave a low groan, drawing a sympathetic laugh from Brian. He knew John couldn’t feel very well; he’d been coughing all day, and his fever was holding steady. Brian was proud of how he’d gotten through the day - they saw each other frequently at the university, when John would take a break from his job in the tech department and convince Brian to set down his research for a moment and have a bite to eat or just stretch his legs. 

Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly lovesick, Brian would call in a repair for the phone in his broom-closet office when it really wasn’t broken, and John would come down and give Brian an affectionate roll of his eyes and tinker about with something Brian hadn’t even known was acting funny. Once in a blue moon would they have a quick shag on Brian’s desk, tossing papers all over the floor, but more often than not it was just for the two of them to spend time with each other and update each other on their day.

“I’ll be ok,” John said. “You’ll have to let Mr. Baker know I won’t be in tomorrow, and make sure - ”

“Shh, don’t you worry about all that,” Brian soothed. “I’ll take care of it.”

Roger turned to face Freddie as the older man finished braiding his hair, feeling a bit guilty. “Maybe I should come in with you,” he said. “That’ll be two days in a row you’ve had to work by yourself.”

“Oh, well, today was your day off,” Freddie said, unconcerned. He brushed a bit of hair that had already fallen out of the braid behind Roger’s ear. “So that doesn’t count.”

“Are you sure?” Roger asked. He touched a hand to Freddie’s cheek. “No offense, but you look really worn-out.”

Freddie chuckled. “None taken, darling. I am worn out. But that’s nothing a bit of sleep won’t help, and then I’ll be perfectly fine to go in tomorrow.” He met Roger’s eyes and smiled. “I’ll miss you, of course - it’s always rubbish when you’re not there - but it’d make me happier for you to stay and rest at home rather than come in and over-exert yourself.”

“And I live to make you happy,” Roger teased.

Freddie laughed, putting an arm around Roger’s waist and pulling him close. “Don’t you?”

Roger just smirked and gave Freddie a kiss, letting him deepen it for a second before pulling away in a shock of worry, suddenly realizing something. Freddie looked surprised, studying Roger’s face.

“What?”

“Bloody hell, I shouldn’t be kissing you if I’m sick,” Roger said.

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Oh, hell. If Brian and I are going to get sick, we’ll get sick with or without kisses. Don’t you think, Dr. May?”

Roger and Freddie both looked over to see Brian fully preoccupied, though he didn’t need to answer. He and John were lost in giggly, sleepy kisses, Brian’s fingers tracing under John’s jaw and John’s fingers tangled in Brian’s curls. 

“See? Brian thinks it’s fine,” Freddie said, the smile on his face at two of his boyfriends turned to warm his third. “Now, may I kiss you, darling? Or would you like to fuss some more?”

Roger hid a shy yawn behind the sleeve of his hoodie. “Mmh, no fussing. But kiss me in bed, please.”

“Whatever you like, darling,” Freddie said sweetly. He took Roger’s empty mug along with his own and placed them in the sink, leaving them for the morning to be washed. Twining his fingers with Roger’s, he turned to Brian and John.

“We’re off to bed, my loves,” he said. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“We’re coming to bed too,” Brian said, standing and helping John down from his perch on the bar stool. The four of them went to their bedroom, the younger men feeling the effects of their medicine again and the older men ready for sleep after a long day. 

Roger was first to get in bed, burying his face in a pillow.

Brian chuckled. “Let me have your glasses, Rog,” he said. Roger groaned but lifted his head enough to allow Brian to take his glasses off and kiss the bridge of his nose.

“Thanks,” Roger mumbled.

Brian smiled and folded his boyfriend’s glasses neatly, setting them on the nightstand before getting in bed next to the blonde. Roger abandoned his pillow in favor of Brian’s chest, cuddling close to the older man and giving a sigh of contentment.

“Does everything still hurt?” Brian asked.

“Not when I’m with you,” Roger said, already nearly asleep.

“Glad to know I’m a cure-all,” Brian teased gently.

“Sing something?” Roger asked. “I like to listen to it in here.” He gently tapped his fingers against Brian’s chest, and Brian couldn’t help but smile.

“Sure, love.” He kissed Roger’s forehead and began to sing “Here Comes The Sun”, keeping his voice soft as he ran his hand up and down Roger’s arm and watched his other two boyfriends with a gentle affection as they got ready for bed.

“Which pajamas do you want?” John asked, rummaging through one of the dresser drawers as Freddie took off his clothes and tossed them in the hamper by the bathroom door.

“The blue ones, if you can find them,” Freddie said. He pulled his Sgt. Pepper t-shirt over his head, catching the pajama bottoms when John tossed them over.

“I’ll do laundry tomorrow while you two are out,” John said.

“If you feel up to it,” Freddie said, tying the string at his waist. “Promise me, flower, you resting comes first.”

John smiled and nodded, leaning into Freddie’s touch as the older man put his hand to John’s cheek.

“Wonderful,” Freddie said. He tipped John’s chin up and kissed him gently. “I love you, trouble.”

John giggled. “I love you too, Fred. Promise you won’t work yourself too hard tomorrow.”

Freddie gave a jokingly exaggerated sigh. “Oh, if you insist.” He smiled when John laughed, endeared as always to the younger man’s beauty in joy.

“Say, that reminds me,” Freddie said, heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. John followed, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, snuggled in his jumper.

“I found the most beautiful kimono at work today,” he said around his toothbrush. “It would look absolutely stunning on you.”

“Just about as stunning as that toothpaste looks all over your mouth,” John teased.

Freddie gave an indulgent roll of his eyes, rising his mouth and washing his face. John handed him the hand towel and Freddie gave a muffled thanks as he buried his face in it.

“What color?” John asked, going around behind Freddie to wrap his arms around his waist and leaning his head against Freddie’s shoulder blade.

“All kinds,” Freddie said, his voice a bit hushed as he painted a picture of the kimono for John with his words. “Emerald green and soft rose and deep indigo on this champagne-colored silk, and these darling little birds perched in cherry-tree branches. It’d bring out your eyes, flower, and the bit of red in your hair. You’d look an absolute vision.”

He turned to face John and framed the younger man’s face with his hands, John enjoying the warmth of Freddie’s touch and the coolness of his rings that decorated his lovely fingers.

“Not that you don’t look a vision every time I see you,” Freddie said gently.

John gave a soft laugh. “Even now I’m sick?”

Freddie kissed the tip of John’s nose. “Yes, darling, even now you’re sick. Speaking of which, you need to get some sleep.”

“So do you,” John said.

“That’s why I’m coming to bed with you,” he said. “Come on, flower.”

Freddie took John’s hand and led him to their bed, letting John get in first to snuggle up next to Roger.

“Alright, lovely?” Brian asked John, his voice hushed to keep from waking Roger.

John smiled. “Perfect.” He gave Roger a gentle kiss on the blonde’s flushed cheek, careful not to wake him.

Freddie gave a contented sigh as he got in bed next to John, turning out the light before drawing the younger man close to him and draping his arm over his and Roger’s waist. In the darkness, John settled back against Freddie’s chest and Brian’s fingers found Freddie’s, twining together as Brian rubbed soothing circles against Freddie’s knuckles. The silence was broken by a few muffled coughs and a sleepy “sorry”; Freddie pressed soft kisses to John’s shoulder and gently hushed his apology. Eventually the younger man’s breathing evened out to match Roger’s, and it was just Freddie and Brian awake, listening to the sound of snow coming down just outside their window.

“Love you, Fred,” Brian said softly.

Freddie smiled to himself, feeling sleep come gently with the sound of the snow and his boyfriends’ warmth and the comfort of being at home with his family. “Love you too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Freddie get up early for school and work, trying to keep from waking their boyfriends. They enjoy their morning walk to Imperial College London and fret about leaving their poor sick boyfriends at home.

Six a.m. came far too early, the alarm clock on the nightstand chirping dutifully until Brian fumbled around in the darkness to turn it off. He blearily watched the little white numbers until the last tile flipped from zero to one, sighing against the pillow as he tried to build up the will to get out of the warm and very comfortable bed. Groaning softly, he gently and begrudgingly disentangled his gangly limbs from the blankets, careful not to wake anyone else.

The hardwood floor was cold on his bare feet, and he grabbed a pair of socks from the top drawer before pulling on Freddie’s sweater he’d discarded on the back of the chair last night. He pulled back the curtain just enough to peek outside to the London street below; the world outside was sleepy and beautiful, covered in a heavy blanket of snow and still waking up in the grey morning light. He tried not to think of how unpleasant it would be to walk to school in ankle-deep snow; in the warmth of his bedroom, winter was lovely, and he enjoyed it while he could.

He stifled a yawn behind his sleeve as he went over to the other side of the bed, running a hand gently up and down Freddie’s arm to wake him.

“Time to get up, Fred,” he said softly, enough to wake the older man but not enough to disturb the younger men still sleeping peacefully.

Freddie gave a pitiful groan. “Already?”

Brian couldn’t help a sympathetic chuckle. “Yes, love, I’m afraid so.”

Freddie’s eyes fluttered open as he turned onto his back, looking up at Brian with a sleep-softened gaze. A tender smile crossed his face.

“Could get used to waking up to your face every morning,” he said gently. He reached up and glanced his fingers over Brian’s jaw.

Brian smiled. “Lucky for you, you’ll probably be waking up to me every morning, since I seem to have taken on the role of your personal alarm clock.”

“Oh, you don’t mind,” Freddie teased lightly. Brian loved the way his boyfriend’s voice sounded when he first woke, soft and a little hoarse and full of affection.

Brian gave Freddie’s fingers a gentle kiss. “No, I don’t mind,” he agreed. “Why don’t you have your shower and I’ll make us some breakfast, hm?”

Freddie carefully rose from bed, gently prying John’s hands from his arm and giving the bassist’s knuckles a kiss before he left John to sleep. He gave a disgruntled huff at how cold the floor was.

“Bloody freezing,” he said. He put his arms around Brian’s waist and snuggled close to the taller man, burying his face against Brian’s chest.

“Oh, now we’ll never get anything done,” Brian said, putting his arms over Freddie’s shoulders and holding him close.

“That was my plan all along,” Freddie said. Brian chuckled and did his best to warm Freddie up.

Freddie looked up, his angular features so beautiful in the soft morning light. “Come in the shower with me?”

Brian peppered gentle kisses all over Freddie’s face. “Are you crazy? My hair would never dry. I’d be a popsicle trying to walk to school with damp hair.”

Freddie giggled, the sound warming Brian all the way through. “I suppose you’re right. Can’t have you catching cold too, can we, darling?”

“God, I don’t have time to be sick,” Brian said, anxious just thinking about it. “I’ve got to finish this bloody draft before the holidays, and we’ve still got songs to record, and I - ”

“Shh, lovely, hush,” Freddie soothed, brushing a curl behind Brian’s ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry. Everything’s going to be just fine. Please don’t fret. It’s six in the morning, far too early for all that.”

Brian chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right.” He gave Freddie a quick kiss. “What do you want for breakfast?”

Freddie gave a dismissive wave of his hand as Brian released him. “Whatever you make will be lovely, darling.”

Brian made his way out to the kitchen as he heard Freddie turn on the shower, crossing his arms over his chest against the cold of the rest of the flat. He set about making tea as the first order of business, humming quietly to himself as he made a simple toast breakfast for the two of them.

“What did you decide on, my darling?” Freddie asked as he came out of the bedroom, towel-drying his hair. He was dressed warmly but fashionably in a white thermal shirt, black pants that hugged his slender hips, and a flowy red velvet jacket. It could be the worst blizzard London had ever seen and Freddie would still dress up, something Brian found equal parts amusing and attractive.

“Mmh, toast,” Brian said. “Your plate’s just there. Have a nice shower?”

“Oh, delightful,” Freddie said. “Water’s nowhere near hot, which makes for a lovely bathing experience.”

“Oh, no,” Brian said with a sympathetic laugh. “Poor thing. Here, have some tea. That’ll warm you up.”

Freddie gratefully accepted the mug of tea from Brian, letting it warm his hands for a moment before sipping at it. He surveyed their living room over the rim of the mug.

“Christmas is only a few weeks away,” he said thoughtfully. 

Brian hummed in agreement as he enjoyed his breakfast.

Freddie raised a brow. "Our flat is rather dreary for being this close to Christmas, don't you think?"

Brian smiled. "You're ready to decorate?"

"Darling, I've been ready to decorate since Halloween," Freddie enthused. "Do you think…"

He looked a little bashful. "I know we haven't got a lot of time this weekend, with you finishing up your draft and us needing to be in the studio all hours, but…"

"You'd like to decorate this weekend?" Brian asked sweetly.

Freddie smiled. "It might be a nice treat, you know, with Rog and John being under the weather and all. It might put us all in better spirits."

Brian chuckled and kissed Freddie's cheek, feeling the warmth of his endearing blush. "'Course we can decorate this weekend," he said. He'd find a way to lasso the moon if Freddie asked for it. "Maybe tonight, if the boys are feeling better.”

“Could we really?” Freddie asked with a beaming smile. “Oh, Brimi, you’re a darling, you know that?”

Brian smiled. “I’m your darling.”

Freddie grinned and gave his boyfriend a kiss. “Quite right. You’re my darling.” Freddie kissed him once more before giving his shoulder a gentle shove. “My darling who’s going to be late if he doesn’t go get dressed.”

Taking his cup of tea with him, Brian left Freddie to his breakfast as he went back to their bedroom to get dressed. He didn’t need to look very professional - his only suit was one that was a hand-me-down from his father, and Freddie had done some alterations on it so it didn’t hang off him quite so obviously - and he rarely dressed up for school if he wasn’t meeting with one of his advisors. He set his tea on one of the nightstands, deciding on a pair of well-worn jeans and his pink and purple striped thermal shirt.

“Brimi?”

Brian turned at the call of his name, a smile already surfacing at John’s sleepy voice. The younger man was snuggled close to Roger, bundled head to toe in blankets, his cheeks pink and his doe-brown eyes impossibly gentle when they looked at Brian.

“Good morning, love,” Brian said softly. “You alright?”

“You’re getting ready to go?” John asked.

Brian hummed in agreement. “We’ll probably be home by lunch,” he said. “D’you think you and Rog are ok to stay here alone?”

John nodded, moving over a little to make room for Brian as he came to sit on the edge of the bed. Brian brushed John’s hair back from his face, feeling the warmth of his fever.

“How about some medicine before I go, hm?” Brian said. “That way you won’t have to worry about it. And I’ll give Roger some too.”

John preened under Brian’s touch. “Okay,” he agreed. “Actually, don’t wake Rog. He was up a few minutes ago and just fell back asleep. I’ll make him have some later, if that’s ok.”

Brian smiled. “Perfectly alright by me, love. It’s good of you to let him sleep. Though I would have thought you’d like to avoid fussing with him about it.” Roger could be a bit of a handful to deal with when he was sick, especially when asked to take medicine.

John’s laugh dissolved into a few rough coughs, and Brian tutted sympathetically.

“Poor love,” he cooed. “Let me go get your medicine, ok? Sit tight.”

John wasn’t of a mind to do anything else, warm and snugly cocooned next to his blonde boyfriend who was a furnace even when he wasn’t feverish. He sat up a bit when Brian retrieved the medicine from the bathroom and returned to give John a dose, a laugh bubbling from the older man when John made a face at the strong taste.

“Not too tasty, that, is it?” Brian asked. “Here, have my tea.”

“Oh, no, Brian, you won’t be able to drink it after me,” John said, not taking the mug that Brian offered.

“I know, you goose,” Brian teased affectionately. “I’m giving it to you. I’ll make some more.”

John hesitantly took it. “Are you sure?”

Brian kissed John’s forehead before standing to return the medicine. “Yes, sweetheart. I’ll just put the medicine on the counter so you can find it for Rog later, okay?”

“Hey,” John said, taking hold of Brian’s hand as he stood. Brian studied John’s face with a look of worry.

“What?”

John smiled and it eased Brian’s worry. “Have a good day at school, Brimi.”

Brian smiled and gave John’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “Thanks, love. You can ring up if you need anything, ok? You remember the extension?”

“73,” John said. He gave Brian a cheeky smile. “As if I could forget the extension of the phone I get called to fix at least twice a month.”

Brian laughed and tried to hide a blush behind his hands. “Yes, well, it’s a finicky thing, that phone.”

John giggled and held onto Brian’s hand a moment longer before letting him go, sipping at his tea as Brian went to put the medicine away and finish getting ready. Freddie came into the bedroom, his hands fluttering around like they did when he was nervous.

“Oh, bollocks,” he said, looking slightly panicked. He saw John was up and his lips bowed in surprise.

“John, love,” he said. “You’re up.”

“Just to have medicine,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

Freddie waved a hand, indicating he didn’t want John to worry. “I’ve just misplaced my bracelet, that’s all.”

John smiled; it was very like Freddie to get worked up over a missing bracelet. “Which one?”

“The big gold one,” he said, “you know, with the red flowers on it? It’d go perfectly with my belt, but I can’t seem to find it.”

“It’s on top of the dresser,” John said confidently, nodding in that direction. “Might be in the jewelry box, but it’s up there.”

Freddie looked in the jewelry box in question and gave a delighted gasp when he pulled the missing bracelet out.

“John, darling, you’re marvelous,” he gushed, putting the bracelet on his wrist and showing it off a bit. John had to admit it did look rather good with his outfit. “What would I ever do without you, flower?”

John smiled and set Brian’s tea back on the nightstand, settling back down next to Roger. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”

Freddie gave a pleased hum of agreement as he graced John with a beaming smile. John loved Freddie’s smile; to him, it was one of the most beautiful things in the world.

“Oh, look at the two of you,” Freddie cooed, seeing his two youngest boyfriends cuddled together. “I wish I could stay and cuddle you both, darling.”

“I wish you could too,” John said. Freddie’s heart nearly couldn’t take the soft pleading tone in John’s hoarse voice.

“My darling,” he said tenderly. “You’re too lovely for your own good, you know that?”

John beamed as Freddie leaned down to kiss his cheek.

“Oh, guess what?” Freddie said excitedly. “Bri said we could decorate tonight if you and Rog were feeling up to it. It might be a bit much after being at the studio this afternoon, but - ”

“Oh Fred, could we really?” John interrupted, his expression bright. “I’d really like to if we can.”

Freddie smiled. “If you’re feeling better, my love, we’ll do whatever you want,” he promised. “Just rest up for me, and we’ll see how it goes, okay?”

John nodded in agreement, the thought of decorating the flat for Christmas already enough to make him feel a bit better. He wished he wasn’t sick, but he’d do everything he could to be feeling well enough, and to prove to Brian and Freddie that he wasn’t too sick to decorate.

“Wonderful,” Freddie said. He kissed the tip of John’s nose, drawing a giggle from the younger man. “We’ve got to get going, lovely, but call Brian at school if you need anything, alright? You two take good care of each other.”

“Could you stop and get some more tissues before you come home?” John asked. “We have enough to last until then, but I think Rog is going to need some more.”

As if to prove his boyfriend’s point, the still-sleeping blonde gave a snore that suggested how congested he was.

“Sure, of course,” Freddie said. “We’ll stop by the store on the way home. Anything else you can think of?”

John shook his head and Freddie patted his leg.

“Okay, then, darling. See you later. I love you.”

John smiled. “Love you too.”

Freddie gave his boyfriend one last quick kiss before heading back out to the living room; John heard him putting his jacket on and imagined Freddie all bundled up in the faux fur coat he always said looked “rather debonair”. Brian came out of the bathroom, a bit of eyeliner bringing out his lovely eyes, and blew John a kiss.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he said, grabbing his messenger bag from where he’d dropped it in the corner last night. “Tell Rog when he wakes up we love him too.”

“You know I don’t need to,” John said sweetly. “But I will. Come home soon.”

Brian smiled. “Soon as we can, lovely, soon as we can. Don’t forget to call if you need anything.”

John laughed. “I’ll remember, I promise. Now go on, before you’re late.”

Brian gave John one last tender smile before leaving the bedroom, pulling on his jacket while Freddie waited patiently by the door.

“Ready, darling?” he asked when Brian had wrapped his rainbow scarf around his neck.

Brian held the door open with a flourish. “After you, dearest.”

Brian followed Freddie out and locked the door behind them, feeling a pang of guilt as he did. He wished they could stay and take care of their boyfriends; it felt wrong to be leaving them to fend for themselves for half the day. Freddie felt the worry and guilt coming off Brian in waves and took his hand as they walked down to the lobby of their apartment building.

“They’ll be perfectly fine without us, Bri,” Freddie said gently. “No need to fuss.”

“I know,” Brian said with a sigh. He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “I just feel bad leaving them. What if they get worse? What if they need something and don’t call?”

“They will,” Freddie said, pushing the lobby door open and sucking in a breath at the freezing morning air that met them. “Not - I mean, they won’t get worse, but they will call if they need something. And if you’re that worried about them, call after a few hours and check up on them.”

They walked together down the sidewalk towards Imperial College London’s campus, which was only a few minute’s walk from their flat they rented in Courtfield Gardens. John had always said it was rather romantic they lived somewhere that sounded so stately and royal; though the little flat they could afford hardly felt either, they all smiled when John would talk about Courtfield Gardens in his most posh voice like they might invite the Duchess for tea one afternoon. Mercifully the snow had been shoveled off the sidewalks so they didn’t have to slog through it, but the air was still bitter cold as the sun peeked above the roof of the buildings lining the street.

“Lovely and brisk, isn’t it?” Freddie said, a smile on his face.

Brian gave a short laugh. “Little cold for me, but at least it’s not snowing.”

Though the street was quiet this time of morning, there was a young man coming out onto his front steps further up the street; Freddie pulled his hand from Brian’s and didn’t look up at him, a fierce blush coloring his cheeks.

“Sorry,” Freddie said quietly. He still didn’t meet Brian’s eyes, keeping his gaze on his snow-dusted shoes.

Brian just sighed and stuck his hand in his pocket. He knew as well as Freddie did that two men walking down the street hand in hand was an open invitation for insults and jeers - or worse, as they knew from experience, physical violence - but Brian had never quite managed to go without feeling a little hurt every time one of his boyfriends’ hands slipped from his. He knew it wasn’t personal - his boyfriends would happily show the whole world they loved him if they could - but it made the cold of the morning just a little more biting as he walked beside Freddie as if they were no more than mates.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Brian said after a moment. “You know you don’t. Not ever.”

Freddie shook his head. “Yes, I do. I just snatched my hand out of yours because of some bloke on the other side of the road. I feel awful every time I do something like that, to any of you.”

Brian nudged his shoulder against Freddie’s. “Hey, it’s alright. I know you love me, and you know I love you. Even if I can’t just stop in the middle of the street and kiss you senseless in front of all of London like I want to.”

Freddie couldn’t help a smile and did meet Brian’s eyes then, a mix of sadness and affection there that mirrored what Brian felt.

“Kiss me senseless, eh? You sure you’re up to it?”

Brian laughed. “I know I am. I’ll prove it to you when we get home. Or maybe I’ll drag you into a broom closet at the university.”

Freddie’s laugh was musical in the cold air. “I bet you would, darling. But that’s yours and John’s thing, I’m much too averse to school in general to have a tête-à-tête on campus.”

“Maybe I’ll come by Kensington then,” Brian teased. “You can sneak me behind the clothes racks.” Brian knew Freddie and Roger had done just that more than once, one time having witnessed them emerging from behind the racks of mismatched clothes all flushed and giggly when he came to walk them home. It was always a risk to do things like that outside the safety of their own home, and they hadn’t managed a lover’s tryst between the four of them yet, but how could they resist each other? They loved each other, risks be damned, and in rare moments that allowed them to overcome the fear they felt at being together when others could see.

Brian took Freddie’s hand again before the older man could protest, twining their fingers together. Freddie looked up at him in surprise.

“If anyone asks, I’m blind, and you’re making sure I don’t run into things,” Brian said with a cheeky smile.

Freddie relaxed a bit and gave Brian a smile. “You’re incorrigible, Brian May.”

They walked hand in hand until they reached Imperial’s Department of Physics, a grand old building that was practically Brian’s second home. A handful of faculty and students were milling about; it was still early for the majority of people. Freddie tipped up his face and gave Brian a sweet smile.

“Learn lots, my darling,” he said, as he always did.

Brian smiled. “I’ll try.” He squeezed Freddie’s hand before letting it go. “Have a good day at work.”

“I’ll do my best,” Freddie said. “Check up on the boys if you feel yourself getting worried about them. They’ll love to hear from you anyways. It’ll cheer them up a bit.”

“I will,” Brian promised. “You’ll be by around lunch? I might be in a meeting with an advisor.”

“Don’t worry about me, darling,” Freddie said. “I’ll amuse myself with some thousand-page tome on stars in your office, if need be.”

Brian smiled. “If you say so. I’ll see you later, then.” He pressed his fingers to his lips in a muted gesture of blowing Freddie a kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Freddie said gently. He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to go, wishing Brian would walk the rest of the way to Kensington Market with him, or that he had Roger coming with him to work. It was unusual for both Freddie and Brian to be parting ways on their own. Brian missed John by his side as he pushed through the doors of the Department of Physics building, telling him excitedly about the new project he was working on in the tech department; Freddie missed Roger walking to work with him, bumping into him almost relentlessly to make up for not being able to hold hands. They both consoled themselves with the thought that it would only be a few hours before they saw their boyfriends again, and they both knew they wouldn’t hold back in lavishing all the attention they’d missed this morning on the men they loved more than anything else in the world.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger and John stay home from work and school, because they know that cuddling with their boyfriend is the best medicine they could get.

Roger yawned as he rolled over, further tangling himself in the mass of blankets that graced their bed during the winter. Roger himself wasn’t partial to lots of blankets - he tended to get overwarm when he slept - but Brian was so damn skinny that he couldn’t retain any heat, and John was the snuggliest person Roger had ever encountered in his life, so many blankets it was. He didn’t particularly mind, though, especially when he wasn’t the only one tangled up in them.

He guessed it was John in bed next to him, though he hadn’t opened his eyes yet. His head hurt and the light from the window was sure to make it worse, so he just listened to John’s breathing for a few minutes and tried to take his mind off the scratchiness in his throat.

He heard the sound of a book’s pages being flipped; he wondered what John was reading. A moment later he felt John jerk slightly and heard his familiar high-pitched sneeze, though it was quieter than usual, probably to keep from waking Roger.

“Bless you,” Roger mumbled, giving up the charade of sleep. He opened his eyes to see John half-propped against the pillows, Brian’s dog-eared copy of  _ The Glass Bead Game  _ in hand. As suspected, the light made his headache worse; Roger snuggled closer to John and buried his face against the younger man’s torso, putting his arm over John’s waist.

“Thanks, sorry,” John said. His hand went to comb through Roger’s hair. “Did I wake you?”

“I was sort of waking up already,” Roger said. “Can’t sleep with this damn headache.”

“Poor thing,” John said sincerely. “Brian left some medicine out if you want me to get you some.”

Roger took a deep breath, breathing in John’s warmth and the smell of their laundry detergent in his sweater. “In a minute,” he said. “Don’t want you to get up.”

John chuckled and continued to brush his fingers through Roger’s hair, gently working through any tangles he found. “Okay,” he said. “Just let me know.”

“How long have you been up?” Roger asked after a moment.

John sighed. “Oh, I dunno. I’ve been dozing on and off since Freddie and Brian left. I can’t seem to settle.”

Roger looked up at his boyfriend, his expression scrunched in worry. “That’s been - ” He turned to glance at the alarm clock. “Bloody three hours ago, love. Why didn’t you wake me?”

“And have you be up and miserable too?” John asked. “You needed your sleep. Besides, you’re quite pretty when you sleep.”

Roger laughed. “If you say so, lovely.” He held John a little tighter. “Sorry you couldn’t get back to sleep.”

John shrugged. “It’s alright. I’ve been reading, and it’s been snowing, and you’re very warm. It’s not all bad to stay home from work with you.” He bit his lip. “I wish we could stay in from the studio, like Brian said.”

“Me too,” Roger admitted. “But we can’t lose any more time.”

John sighed. “I know. Just… what a silly time to get sick, you know? Freddie and Brian are already so stressed, and then I have to go and catch cold, and they’ve got so much else to worry about and they don’t need - ”

“Hey, hey,” Roger said, sitting up so he could put his hand to John’s cheek and ground him a bit. John worried his bottom lip like he did when he was nervous or embarrassed and didn’t meet Roger’s eyes.

“It’s ok, John,” Roger soothed. He hadn’t known John was this worried about the whole thing. To Roger, being sick was an inconvenience; John seemed to think it was something he’d done wrong. Roger brushed his thumb over his boyfriend’s cheek. “It’s ok.”

John shook his head. “They don’t need this,” he said quietly. “They need… they shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“They want to,” Roger said. He felt his heart break for his boyfriend and wished there was something he could do to ease John’s pain; Brian was always much better at talking things through, but Roger was here with John now, and he’d do the best he could. “They love you, John. More than anything, you know that. Besides, it’s not just you that’s sick.”

John’s face paled. “Oh, Rog, I know,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry. That was selfish of me. I didn’t mean to - I mean, and you probably feel even worse than me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it about me.”

Roger realized he’d made John feel bad and immediately tried to backpedal. “Sweetheart, that’s not what I meant. You’re not being selfish, I know that. I only said that to remind you that you’re not the one slowing things down, or making Fred and Bri worry, or whatever else you’re worried about. They have to deal with me too, which is a great deal less pleasant than dealing with you.”

“Oh, you don’t mean that,” John said. “They don’t mind looking after you. They love it.”

Roger couldn’t help a smile. Sometimes John was so eager to reassure others how much they were loved that he forgot how loved he was. 

“I know they do, love,” Roger said. “That’s why I know it’s the same for you. So don’t worry about it, yeah? We’re both sick and Fred and Bri have to deal with both of us, but they don’t mind because they love us. Ok?”

John managed a shy smile as he nodded. “Yeah, alright.” He met Roger’s eyes. “Thank you.”

Roger leaned in and gave John a kiss. “You’re welcome. I love you, Deaks.”

John giggled when Roger continued to kiss all over his face. “I love you too, Roger. Oh, hold on - ”

He turned away from Roger and caught a sneeze in the crook of his arm. “Sorry.”

Roger chuckled. “‘S ok, sweetheart. Bless you.” He winced a little at the headache that had decided to get suddenly worse. “Ugh, I think I’ll take that medicine now.”

“Okay,” John said, making to get up and get it for him. Before he could, though, Roger sat up and straddled his boyfriend, drawing a laugh from the younger man.

“What?” Roger asked, faking innocence. “Just getting off the bed. This is the closest route to the medicine.”

“So you don’t want to be on top of me right now?” John teased.

Roger grinned and gave John a kiss that made the younger man’s head spin. “Just an… unforeseen perk,” Roger said, cradling John’s face in his hands. “Completely unintentional.”

“I can tell,” John said, giving Roger a dopey grin that warmed Roger all the way through.

“Admit it, Deaky, you like it when I kiss you like that.”

“Not at all,” John said smoothly, though his fingers grazed over Roger’s collar under his t-shirt. “I hate it, as a matter of fact.”

Roger kissed John again, taking his time. John gave a whimper of pleasure that made Roger lightheaded.

“If we weren’t both deathly ill, I’d suggest something more productive to do with our day at home,” Roger said breathlessly.

John chuckled. “Deathly ill. You’re so melodramatic, Rog.”

Roger laughed, but it quickly dissolved into a coughing fit that lasted long enough for John to get worried. His hands fluttered around Roger, unsure what to do, afraid to touch him and make things worse.

“Jesus,” Roger gasped when he finally recovered. His chest heaved with breaths as deep as he could manage. “You take my breath away, John.”

John just stared at his boyfriend for a moment before giving a laugh that mixed confusion and exasperation and affection. Of course Roger would be flirting after nearly having coughed himself to death.

“Roger, you’re…”

The blonde managed a cheeky smile. “What? The sexiest bastard you ever laid eyes on?”

“About to keel over while you’re straddling me, is what I was going to say,” John said. “Maybe you weren’t being quite as melodramatic as I said.”

“That would be a first,” Roger admitted.

John couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, you,” he said affectionately, taking Roger’s arm in a gentle grip to steady him as he got off the bed. John disentangled himself from the blankets and pulled Roger with him to the bathroom, sitting him on the edge of the tub to catch his breath as he got the medicine ready.

“You’re really pretty, John.”

John smiled as he filled the dose cap with the strong-smelling syrup. “And you’re very feverish.”

Roger looked up at John with a tender smile as John turned to give him the medicine. “Yes, but this will bring down my fever, and you’ll still be really pretty.”

“Hush and drink your medicine,” John said, an endearing blush over his cheeks. Roger gave him a cheeky wink as he took the medicine like a shot, grimacing as he downed it.

“Horrible,” Roger said.

John grinned. “You have a way with words, as always.” He took the cap and rinsed it out before replacing it so they could find it for their next dose. “Come on, I’ll make tea so you can get that taste out of your mouth.”

“Aren’t you going to have some?” Roger asked as he stood.

“Bri gave me some earlier,” John said. He took Roger’s hand almost automatically; between the four of them, at least two could always be counted on having their fingers intertwined at any given moment. It was their favorite way to show affection, and not being able to do it in public made them all the more eager to do it at home. To John’s surprise, however, Roger pulled his hand away.

“Sorry, I actually have to use the loo,” Roger explained. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to hold your hand.”

“Oh,” John said with a short laugh. “Okay. I’ll go make tea. Bring blankets out and we can sit on the couch, if you like.”

John went out to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil, crossing to the tv and flipping through the channels until he heard the familiar strains of the  _ Doctor Who  _ theme song.

“Oh, is it the new season?” Roger asked, coming out from the bedroom with his arms full of blankets.

“Not yet,” John said as Roger tossed the blankets on the couch. “Season ten doesn’t air until after Christmas, so it’s just a rerun.”

“It’s the bloke with the hair, though, right? The one I like?”

John smiled. “Yes, it’s the Third Doctor.” Roger had never gotten into  _ Doctor Who _ like John and Brian had, but he appreciated it and would watch it with them sometimes to make them happy. The first episode he’d ever seen had been one of the Third Doctor’s, and he’d been quite amused with Jon Pertwee’s voluminous blonde hair.

Roger got settled on the couch, offering a running commentary on the episode, which happened to be the Third Doctor’s first. John busied himself making tea as the kettle started to whistle, using honey instead of sugar to sweeten both cups in hopes that it would soothe their sore throats.

“Oh, it’s not a meteorite, you sod, it’s the Tardis,” Roger said to the television. John smiled to himself, amused with how easily Roger could get passionate about a show he barely watched. He brought their tea over and handed Roger’s mug to him, snuggling next to the blonde under the pile of blankets.

“Thanks, lovie,” Roger said, blowing on his tea before taking a careful sip. It was a little hot for him at the moment - John liked his tea scalding - and he set it on the coffee table to cool while he took advantage of his boyfriend’s closeness. Roger laid his head on John’s lap, smiling to himself when John drew the blanket up over Roger’s shoulder and started to brush his fingers through Roger’s hair.

“Deaky?” Roger asked after a moment.

“Hmm?”

He traced the pattern lines of John’s plaid pajama bottoms. “You alright?”

Roger heard John look down at him. “‘Course,” he said. “Why?”

Roger shrugged. “You’ve just been taking care of me, and I wanted to see if you needed taking care of too.”

John’s laugh was soft and sweet. “Oh, Roggie. You are taking care of me. Just being here with you makes me feel like a million bucks.”

Roger rolled onto his back and looked up at his boyfriend. “A million bucks? What does that even mean?”

John giggled. “It’s American money, Rog. There’s a boy from America in Brian’s class, you know, the one he’s helping with as part of his teacher training? Anyway, Brian says his student is always saying he feels like a million bucks with this big smile on his face, and Brian thought it was nice so he started saying it too.”

Roger gave a soft laugh. “It is nice,” he said. It sounded a little silly to him, but if Brian and John got a kick out of it, he liked it too.

John hummed in agreement, giving Roger a sweet smile as he brushed his fingers over Roger’s cheek. Roger turned his head and kissed John’s fingers, drawing a gentle laugh from the younger man.

“Love you,” Roger said. “Even if you do say silly American things.”

John’s cheeks pinked as he looked at Roger like he’d hung the moon. “I love you too.”

Roger reached up and traced his fingers under John’s jaw. Roger has always thought John was an exquisite beauty, from the day he walked into his audition and tripped over Freddie’s mic cord and blushed in that way John did, all pink and shy and doe-eyed. That boy had stumbled his way into Roger’s heart not long after, and it wasn’t long before he and Freddie and Brian realized that John had been what they were missing all along. 

The three of them had been dancing around a romantic relationship as long as they’d been playing together, but it never seemed  _ right _ ; something was always just a bit off, never truly what it needed to be. And then a shy engineering student had blushed his way through a flawless audition and gotten a bit giggly after a few beers with them at the pub that evening, and all three of them knew that John Richard Deacon was their Deaky, the one they’d been missing, the one they’d been waiting for without even knowing it. 

“You’re very affectionate today, Roggie,” John said softly.

Roger smiled. “It’s the medicine,” he teased. “Makes me all mushy-gushy.”

John giggled and Roger couldn’t help but light up at the sound.

“God, I love your laugh,” Roger said.

John blushed and turned his head to hide against Roger’s hand, an endearingly shy smile lighting his face.

“John, my lovely,” Roger cooed, sitting up and sitting cross-legged next to John so he could kiss all over the younger man’s face, right where his cheeks pinked. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, did you know that?”

John just blushed deeper and beamed as Roger kissed him, his hands warm against Roger’s chest, the little sounds he made as Roger’s lips found his making Roger a little lightheaded.

“This is a bit silly, you know,” John said dazedly. “We’ll never get well if we keep this up.”

“Oh, who cares,” Roger said with a lazy smile. “Let’s stay home and kiss and cuddle forever, hm?”

John gave a soft laugh. “Okay,” he agreed. “Hey, Rog?”

Roger hummed as he pressed a kiss to the younger man’s jaw. “Yes, love?”

“You know what we  _ could _ do,” he said slowly. “Since we’ve got a whole day at home, and it’s so bloody cold in here anyways. We could use a little something extra to go with all our cuddling and kissing.”

Roger pulled back and grinned as he met John’s eyes. “I think I know where you’re going with this.”

John smiled. “Do you want to?”

“Of course I want to,” Roger said. “Have you ever known me to turn it down?”

John laughed. “Not as long as I’ve known you, lovie. Shall we do it, then?”

Roger hesitated a bit. “You don’t think Brian and Freddie will fuss at us for doing it without them?”

John waved him off. “It’s our sick day, we can do what we want. Besides, they’ll be home soon enough, and they can join us.”

Roger grinned. “You’re right.” He stood from the couch and started moving the blankets into a pile, trying to map out exactly how they’d do it. He wanted it all over the room, and knowing John, he’d want the same.

“So,” John said, standing from the couch and neatly folding the quilt he’d been cuddled up in. “How do you want it?”

“I think we should move the coffee table out to give us more room,” Roger said. “And then we can bring in the dining chairs.”

John was a little surprised. “Oh, so you’re thinking… like, a lot, aren’t you?” He liked that idea. “The whole living room, basically?”

Roger grinned. “Why not? We haven’t built a blanket fort in ages, and we’ve got time on our hands. I say let’s make it the biggest and grandest one we can.”

John laughed. “Okay, I’m game. Let’s do it.”

Roger moved the coffee table out of the way while John turned off the television and put on the Beach Boys’ Christmas album, giving Roger a sheepish smile that Roger returned to reassure his boyfriend he liked the choice. John had mentioned Freddie said they could put up decorations that night if they were feeling better, and Roger was ready to get into the Christmas spirit. Besides, the Beach Boys were good no matter what they were singing, so Roger very much enjoyed singing along to “Little Saint Nick” with John as they worked.

By the time Brian Wilson was crooning out “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” on the B-side of the record, Roger had managed to construct what he thought might be his best blanket fort to date. John had left Roger in charge of the building - it was an oddly specific talent that Roger was able to whip up a veritable palace with only quilts and pieces of furniture - and had gathered up all the pillows from their bed and made the inside of their fort very comfy. 

“Look what I’ve brought you,” John said as Roger made his final adjustments. Roger turned to see his boyfriend with the light box they kept in their room, a Christmas present John had made for Brian last year. In his free time in the tech department, John had whipped up the little box with star shapes cut out of it and wired it so the soft Christmas lights inside could shine through, making Brian’s very own little galaxy up on the walls and ceiling whenever he turned it on. 

“Ooh, to put inside?” Roger said. “That’s a lovely idea!”

John smiled as he ducked inside the blanket fort to plug the light box in, and after he managed to find a socket close enough, the inside of the fort was decorated in cosy stars that gave just enough light. Roger came in and fixed the blanket that acted as a door so it was just John and Roger and the stars, and Roger couldn’t help but smile.

“Bloody great idea, John,” Roger said. “We’ve made a very nice blanket fort.”

John laughed as Roger came over to lay next to him, cuddling close amid all the pillows. “I think so too.”

Roger gave a soft groan as he got settled against John, tucking his hands under the younger man’s sweater but careful not to pull up his t-shirt lest he freeze John with his cold fingers.

“What’s wrong?” John asked, worry coloring his voice. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just a bit sore,” Roger admitted with a wry chuckle. “All that fort-building wore me out.”

John gave a sympathetic laugh. “Oh, my poor lovie,” he cooed. “I’m sorry. You feel a little warm, too.”

“Do I?” Roger said. “I’m bloody freezing.”

“I might not be the best judge of that, though,” John said, hiding a yawn behind his hand as he pulled one of the blankets not used for the fort up over both of them. “Since I’ve got a fever too.”

“You should get some rest, sweetheart,” Roger said, noticing with fondness how John had begun to get very sleepy now that they were warm and cuddled together. He took his hands out from under John’s sweater and drew his boyfriend closer, letting John snuggle up against his chest and slowly running his hands up and down John’s back.

“Don’t wanna sleep,” John mumbled. “Wanna talk to you.”

Roger chuckled. “We’ve got all day, love. We can talk for a little bit, ok? And if you fall asleep, that’s alright too.”

John nodded, and Roger could tell his boyfriend was fighting a losing battle with his exhaustion. Roger was perfectly happy to cuddle John while he slept, knowing that John must be tired after not being able to get back to sleep this morning when Freddie and Brian left.

Roger felt a pang of loneliness when he thought of the two older men, adoring being here with John but wishing their other two boyfriends were home too. It wouldn’t be long before they were home, but Roger missed them.

He knew John must feel the same, and it didn’t surprise him when John said so.

“I miss Freddie and Bri,” he said softly. “Not that - I mean, I’m really glad I get to stay home with you, Rog. I love you.”

Roger gave a soft laugh as he kissed John’s forehead. “I know. I love you too. And I love being home cuddling with you. But it would be better with Fred and Bri here, wouldn’t it?”

Roger could feel John’s smile. “Yeah, it would.”

“Let’s think about what they might be doing now, hm?” Roger said gently, hoping to ease John towards sleep. “What would Brimi be doing on a normal day at uni?”

“Probably in his office,” John said, his voice softened with sleepiness. “Though it’s so small, I dunno how he stands it. He’s probably going over his draft right now, or maybe grading papers. Probably chewing on the end of his pen.”

Roger hummed in agreement, smiling at the thought of Brian somehow managing to fit his lanky legs under the small desk, maybe singing quietly to himself as he graded exams on the stars. 

John yawned. “And what about Freddie? What’s he doing?”

Roger thought of Kensington Market, how busy it probably was, how well Freddie could handle customers flocking in and out of the stall despite how tired he would be by the end of it.

“He’s probably dressing somebody in a beautiful scarf he found, ribbons and shawls and shirts everywhere as he finds the perfect thing to go with it,” Roger said. “He’s definitely wishing he had someone else to run the register.”

“But he’ll be home soon,” John said. “And then we’ll go to the studio together.”

Roger had forgotten about that. Now that he thought about having to leave home and work at the studio when Freddie and Brian were done, he kind of wished they’d stay out a bit longer.

“I don’t really want to go,” John said quietly, like he was embarrassed to say it. “I’d rather stay home and - oh - ”

He pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose, catching a sneeze that turned into a volley of coughs afterwards. “Ugh, sorry.”

“Bless you,” Roger said sweetly, running a soothing hand over John’s back. “And I don’t really want to go either. I know Freddie and Brian said that if we really weren’t feeling well, we could stay home, but...”

John sighed. “We’ve got to go in,” he agreed. “Maybe it won’t take too long, right? Maybe we’ll just do the songs perfectly on the first try.”

Roger chuckled and John laughed with him, both knowing how unrealistic that was. They didn’t mind redoing songs and working on them to make them perfect - it’s what they loved about making music, tinkering with each other’s songs until they made something beautiful. But putting in that work when they didn’t feel well wasn’t a pleasant idea to either of them.

“Well, let’s just see how it goes,” Roger said. “Let’s rest up until they get home, okay? And not worry about anything until then.”

John smiled and cuddled closer to Roger. “Okay.”

Roger help John close and listened as the younger man’s breathing eventually evened out as he fell asleep, gently brushing his hands through John’s hair and watching the little stars above them. There would be plenty of time to worry about how they’d get through rehearsal later; for now, cuddling in a blanket fort with his boyfriend was the best medicine for both of them, and he enjoyed it while it lasted.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come see me on my tumblr, @brianmay-be, and talk about soft poly!queen :3


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